Tipping Point
by lishearnest
Summary: Berwald is a laborer in Mathias' house who has to pay a steep price for his imperfections. A story of his trials, triumph, and growing friendship with a Finnish boy named Tino. / A whole mess of ships, but primarily DenSu/SuDen and Sufin. Warnings inside.
1. Prologue

Tipping Point

Warnings: Slash, Dubcon, and Noncon in later chapters. Yeah, it gets pretty dark.

*A/N Hello! This is my first shot at a multi-chapter fic so I'd love feedback! This is turning out to be much darker than I originally intended... whoops. It's based on Sweden's time of labour at Denmark's house that Finland talks about in their episode. One thing: No I don't think Denmark is a bad person, he's actually fabulous. He just needed to have this personality for the story to work. It's a work in progress! Sorry if updates are slow, I promise I won't leave this unfinished. I use human names which are listed below. Enjoy!*

Berwald - Sweden

Mathias - Denmark

Tino - Finland

Lukas - Norway

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Prologue

Two exhausted men collapsed side by side onto a mattress. The both panted as sweat rolled off their toned chests and their heartbeats began to reestablish a steady pace. Their bodies mirrored each other but their faces were what provided the contrast. One's expression was tense and unsettling, the other's was satisﬁed and proud. The second man spoke with a mocking chuckle "Getting loose aren't you, Sve?" and smirked as he shufﬂed out of bed towards the bathroom. His words bounced off his partner, who lay completely still staring at the ceiling and thinking to himself.

This was, to both of them, an unbalanced scale. Berwald had never agreed to this "relationship"; he never had any choice. He was to be a laborer for Mathias, and if his master was ever displeased he was to make up for his faults by pleasuring the Dane. He had never doubted the threats of this task, but was completely shocked the ﬁrst time he had to go through with it.

It was six years ago. Berwald was overseeing the construction of a Danish ship that later sank, killing everyone on board. His only punishment was to suck Mathias until he was satisﬁed. Berwald never could have imagined that six years later this punishment would be remembered as "unreasonably generous."

Not only did the sexual consequences grow more and more extreme, but they started coming more often and the reasons were less signiﬁcant each time. Earlier that day he had dropped a newly cleaned shirt of Mathias's on the ground and was sentenced to take him dry. The scale was unbalanced for a reason: to ensure Mathias stayed on top. The Swede belonged to him, he was his property. And as long as that was true Mathias would remain the king of northern Europe. Berwald heard his tyrant's footsteps growing louder as he was returning from his bathing and was snapped out of his temporary daydream. It was a strict rule that he had to be gone before the Dane returned. He stood, swaying a bit, and hastily put on his robe before limping to the door.

Once in the hallway, having closed the door as silently as possible, he turned to see a smaller fair-haired boy peering out from the neighboring doorway. Tino. He was obviously frightened, holding his white puppy in his trembling arms and taking a deep breath to fuel his barely audible voice. "I- I don't like hearing you yell like that... you're in such pain..." he said before lowering his eyes, embarrassed. Berwald tried not to pause long, aware of how nervous his silence made Tino. Passing the boy, he whispered to him to get some rest, and tried to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. He used the wall to both guide and support him, not wanting Tino to see he was hurting. But he could feel the boy's large sympathetic eyes burning holes in his back until he turned in to his own room and closed the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun was barely starting to rise when Berwald heard the familiar stern knock on his door. "Wake up already, last night's dishes need to be washed before master gets up." a younger voice called. It belonged to Lukas, another servant in the house.

No one would ever dare speak of it, but Mathias had obvious favorites and Lukas was his number one. Everyone else's wellbeing was secondary to his. Lukas was well aware of the methods of punishment his master used against Berwald. Although it made him uneasy, he had always turned a blind eye to it. In his mind this made him fair and neutral. But to Berwald he was an accomplice, and tension was always high between the two.

The Swede sat up in bed and stretched, grunting at his aching muscles. He slowly stood to fetch his clothes and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His reflection startled him. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath, and his jaw line and collarbones looked like they were going to break through his skin. He stood in disbelief at his own body, having to lift a hand to his face to ensure what he was seeing was real. What he felt deep in his gut was worse that fatigue or hunger, it was defeat.

"Berwald...? Are you up yet...?" came a gentle voice from the doorway. Berwald turned his back to the door as Tino peeked in. "I don't mean to rush you... but you know how angry master gets if he's up before you..." the Swede nodded. He was well aware. Tino took the hint and turned back to the hallway to allow the older man privacy to change.

-Two days later-

Tino and Berwald's breath hung in the air as they shoveled snow from the inside of a barn. The two younger boys, Tino and Lukas, had been made to patch the roof earlier in the week, but the heavy snowfall had caused it to cave in completely. "T- this isn't fair to you, Berwald." Tino spoke through chattering teeth. The two had barely enough clothing to keep them from getting frostbite. "If Lukas and I just repaired the roof all this snow would melt within a day or so. There's no need for this! He's just making us do extra work because he _can_!"

The taller man didn't respond. "You should do something! I'm too little to stand up to him but you should!" Berwald looked up to see the boy shaking where he stood, his face red and fingers stiff.

"If you keep moving you'll be warmer" he offered in his monotonous voice, but he could tell Tino was not happy with him avoiding the subject. He tried again. "It doesn't bother me to help you. But if Lukas was equally responsible for the roof then Mathias should punish him too."

"You know he would never do that" the boy responded with as stern of a voice as he could manage. Berwald looked away and continued shoveling, unable to deny the truth in Tino's statement. Tino had more to confess and stiffly made his way to being within whispering distance of the other. "I'm scared." he spoke in a weak and cracking voice. "Master told me yesterday that if I keep messing up he's going to punish me the way he punishes you." The Swede froze in shock hearing this and looked down to the boy whose tears had just begun to fall.

Finding this new information hard to process, he lifted a finger to Tino's face to catch a tear. He had barely made contact when the Finnish boy grabbed onto his thin shirt and buried his face into his chest.

"I won't let him do that to you" Berwald tried to comfort the boy, but Tino was still unsure.

"But how-" The sound of the barn door unlatching echoed through the space and the two snapped back to work. Afternoon light filtered in around the shape of Lukas as he opened the door wider for another to enter. Mathias stormed in with rage and hastily made his way to Berwald, who met him with a steady, tall posture and a stone cold face.

"What's this!?" he demanded as he threw one of his large axes on the ground in front of the other man. Berwald knew he wasn't expecting an answer so he remained silent and kept his stance. "I couldn't kill a chicken with this if I tried, do you think it's sharp enough for battle!? Do you realize what would happen if I tried to defend my land with this!?" He paused for a superficial sigh. "I'm afraid some mistakes just can't be overlooked. I'm going to have to see you again tonight."

Berwald gave a disgusted grimace but Mathias' attention had already turned to Tino, who was wincing at every word the Dane spat. "You go back to your room. I'm done with you for today." He wouldn't take his eyes off the boy until he left, as if he was shouting "NOW!" and chasing him through the door. He turned back to Berwald and grabbed his cheek in his hand, speaking to him in a powerful and condescending tone. "Finish sharpening my axe and be in my room within the hour."

With that he turned and strode out of the barn, Lukas following him and the door slamming shut. The Swede angrily threw down his shovel and kicked the closest pile of melting snow. Mathias was on top of the scale as usual and at the moment Berwald was practically and physically powerless to throw him off.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I had some difficulty with editing since this is my first time writing smut... *Sigh.* Also, please excuse my historical inaccuracies in regards to clothing, after research I discovered that the popular clothing items during the time that the Kalmar Union was coming to an end included tights and codpieces, and there's only so much one can accomplish in her first attempt at smut .

The next two chapters are all done too and will be up very soon. Just bare with me through this one :D

Warning: Dubcon ahead!

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Powerless. That word had become frighteningly familiar. He had no status, no influence, and he could barley find the physical strength to complete his daily tasks. Tino was right, something had to be done.

The sun was hanging lower in the sky, casting long daunting shadows across the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Berwald made his was through the orange glow to the last doorway on the right. He paused briefly before knocking, as if in a few seconds he could conjure up a plan to escape. But once his fist hit the door and it opened, he knew there was no way out. Not this time.

He strode in past Mathias who was already shirtless and sporting his usual proud smirk. Without speaking, the Dane closed and latched the door behind the other. In the middle of a self-soothing deep breath, Berwald was caught off guard as his wrist was grasped and he was thrown onto the bed, hitting his neck on a bedpost. The sharp pain shot up to his skull and he lifted his hand to the injured spot, only to have it pulled away by Mathias. Mathias climbed over him, hands on either side of Berwald's shoulders.

"Aww did I hurt you?" He mocked. "Here. Let me make it better." Mathias grabbed hold of his partner's chin and forced his head to the side so he could reach the wounded area. He began by gently ghosting his lips over the skin that was growing red. Berwald could feel the Dane's hot breath on his neck and the sadistic grin that grew against his skin before his master spoke. "When are you gonna learn your lesson, Sve?"

After speaking, Mathias sank his teeth into the other man's neck with as much strength as he could. Berwald responded with a sharp inhale and his body tensioned, but he refrained from vocalizing his pain when he remembered that Tino was right next door and could hear every grunt and yell. He was reminded of Tino's terrified face from the last time the boy had heard his cries. Berwald bit his lip to prevent any sound from escaping.

Mathias released Berwald's skin and blood began to rise to the surface. He brought his partner's face back to his and stared into his eyes. The stare held between them could be felt throughout the room. It was a battle - Mathias trying to peer into the other's mind and Berwald fighting to keep him out. Of course, the Dane would have none of this. Executing a physical response to this battle he crashed his lips over Berwald's, not asking for permission or giving warning before prying the other's mouth open with his tongue. In the past, the Swedish man would fight for dominance at this point. But having learned that his tyrant doesn't fight fair, he let him have his way.

He let his mouth go limp as the other invaded it. Mathias attacked every inch and corner, exhausting Berwald's jaw and giving his bottom lip a bite for good measure. With one of his hands, Mathias began to wander down the other man's chest until he reached the end of his thin and tattered shirt. He detached himself from Berwald's mouth and sat up in between his thighs, grabbed a fistful his shirt, and pulled him upright for their eyes to meet. But this time there was no battle; this time it was obvious. Mathias was sitting on top of the scale, looking down towards his prey.

After taking a few short moments to savor his victory, Mathias moved his hand to the top of Berwald's head and forced the other's face down to the skin just above the waistline of his pants. "Well...?" was all the Danish man had to say. Berwald glared up at him through furrowed brows, but had no choice but to comply. He switched to being on his hands and knees, never breaking eye contact with the other man. His hatred was only feeding into Mathias' pride.

"I'm waiting" he whispered with a smirk. Berwald, disgusted, moved his hands to the other's pants, unbuttoning them with exasperated tugs and grunts. Once he had loosened Mathias' pants enough he pulled them just below his hips to discover the Dane was already beginning to harden and press against his boxers. 'Sadistic bastard' Berwald thought. He tucked his fingers under the waistband and pulled them down as well.

The other man, still hardening in front of him gleamed in sick triumph. Berwald wrapped his hand around him and began to pump, as was routine. Once Mathias was completely stiff Berwald finally broke eye contact with him, lowered his head, and wrapped his lips around the other man's cock. Wanting to deny the Dane as much pleasure as possible, he took him further into his mouth tantalizingly slow and steadily. Mathias refused to allow this. He grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of Berwald's head to keep it in place and thrusted deeply and vigorously into the back of his throat. Berwald gagged but tried to keep his voice low.

The Dane pulled out painfully slow before slamming back in again, allowing the other little time to breathe. He continued this way, ruthlessly throat fucking Berwald who's only option was to sit still and take it. The room was starting to be filled with Mathias' grunts and moans, which grew breathier with each movement. He let out a particularly high-pitched whimper and pressed Berwald's forehead into his stomach, letting the other know he was close. But contrary to the Swede's hopes, Mathias pulled him back by the hair and tilted his face upwards, indicating that he wasn't going to stop there.

Berwald, finally able to take a proper breath, gasped for air and looked up at the other with harsh contempt. Saliva ran down his chin and onto the bed. Mathias took in the sight and the corners of his lips turned up into a crooked grin. "We have a problem Sve, you're still fully dressed."

With that he pushed Berwald back onto the bed and leaned over him like a vulture considering its prey. He hooked his fingers under the other's shirt at the neckline and, as if it took no effort at all, pulled down, ripping the thin fabric down the middle. His hands were left positioned above the waistline of Berwald's pants. Giving the Swede no eye contact, Mathias grabbed a hold of his pants and pulled both them and his boxers down his thighs and threw them on the floor beside them.

Berwald laid completely hard in front of the other. He despised his body for betraying him. Every breath the Danish man took was another shot of poison through his veins, and yet his body responded as if he was being pleasured. He laid there, exposed, vulnerable and infuriated, and Mathias sat and watched him struggle, seeing right through him. But this torment was not enough for the Dane, who then moved to tease the other by lightly tracing a single finger up Berwald's length, from the base to the tip and back down again. Despite his hardest efforts to lay still, Berwald's hips bucked in response, earning a chuckle from Mathias.

"Are you certain you dislike this? Your body seems to be telling a different story." Berwald responded with a spiteful glare, and Mathias gave his usual superficially deep sigh. At this statement, the Swedish man could feel his blood boil through every inch of his body. His rage burned through his self control. Before thinking he sat up and spat in the other man's face. Mathias paused before wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Well well, that wasn't very nice" he scolded before lifting his hand and bringing it back down on Berwald's cheek.

Berwald bit into his bottom lip in order to trap his grunt at the bottom of his throat. Whatever happened he had to remember to stay quiet. Unfortunately this didn't escape Mathias' attention.

"Staying quiet are we? Perhaps I need to be rougher." With that he slapped Berwald a second time, putting more muscle behind his swing. Protest threatened to break free from Berwald's throat, but he managed to swallow his pain once more by cutting deeper into his lip with his teeth. "Hmm. This simply won't do" Mathias taunted. "If you won't yell for me then maybe I should invite Tino over. I'm sure I can get him to be as loud as I want."

Berwald's eyes shot wide open at these words and he wondered how his blood could feel so frozen and boiling hot at the same time. Mathias could recognize fear beginning to peak through amongst the hatred in the other's stare. The slightest triumphant chuckle could be heard from him before he spoke next. "Now then. Let's try this again." This time Mathias clenched his fist into a tight ball and brought it down on Berwald's face with as much power as he could manage. The Swede reluctantly accepted his defeat and a strained yell erupted from him. "That's more like it" the other commented.

Instinctively, Berwald raised his hand and covered his burning nose which was beginning to run with blood. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he tried to regain his composure through his fury. He felt the other man slide off of him and step off the bed. His eyes tracked his every move as he walked over to his dresser and picked up a bottle of oil. "Consider yourself lucky Sve, I didn't much enjoy taking you dry last time." He tossed the bottle onto the bed beside Berwald who lay sill, as if he could refuse what was coming next. "Prepare yourself" Mathias ordered as he stood in front of the other and crossed his arms over his chest.

Berwald did as he was told. He grabbed the bottle, poured a generous amount of oil into his palm and over his fingers and, in a struggle against himself, spread his legs to allow himself access. Mathias stood tall and watched his face twist and turn red out of anger and humiliation as he moved his hand down to his hole and his pride was left battered and torn, hanging from a thread. The sight was more than sickly arousing for the Dane, who stood painfully hard observing this scene, but refused to touch himself in front of the other.

Berwald's breath hitched slightly as he slid two fingers inside himself, his other hand still gripping the bottle of oil. He began to pump his fingers, scissoring and stretching himself wide enough to add a third finger. By this point his stomach was rising and falling irregularly, and his shaky breaths and grunts were escaping from behind his tightly clenched teeth. Mathias began to twitch with impatience. "That's enough" he barked and reached forward to grab Berwald's wrist and push it out of the way.

Mathias crawled back onto his bed and situated himself between the other's thighs. With both hands he lifted Berwald's hips onto his lap and spread open his hole with his thumbs. Before entering Berwald, Mathias bent down to hiss into his ear. "Hold back that beautiful scream of yours and the next one in your position will be that adorable little Finnish boy across the hall." With that Mathias thrusted completely into Berwald, squeezing his thighs roughly. Berwald's yell was tense and cracked, breaking free from him and shattering the room. The sound was music to the Dane's ears who responded with a deep groan that resolved into a slight chuckle. "That's what I thought" he said almost to himself.

He sat up straight again, reestablished his grasp on Berwald's thighs, pulled out slowly with humming satisfaction, and rammed himself back inside. He continued this pattern, gaining speed at a rate far too uncomfortable for Berwald. Feeling himself being stretched and bruised, Berwald shut his eyes tight, laid his head back, and tightly grasped the sheets. His yells came from behind clenched teeth, deep and messy.

He had almost adjusted to the sensation when he felt the other's hand grab his jaw and jerk his head down. "You will watch me" he growled. Berwald met Mathias' brutal gaze. He looked him over. The Dane's usually tall hair was falling in his face, his veins were showing through the skin on his neck, and a light glaze of sweat had begun to cover his abdomen. A disturbingly light-hearted grunt accompanied each slap of skin. Berwald felt like he was going to be sick. But worse than that, his own ignored cock was throbbing and begging for attention. He lifted his hand to address this situation only to have both wrists pinned to the mattress by Mathias who was too lost in his own euphoria to issue any further warning. Instead he lifted his own hips to angle down inside Berwald and avoid hitting his prostate.

Mathias' thrusts became jerky and irregular and Berwald thanked God that it seemed like the other was reaching his end. Still pinning the Swede's wrists to the bed, Mathias pushed into him one last time and Berwald could feel him throb and come deep inside of him. His face twisted at the disgusting notion and for a moment he considered punching Mathias out cold in the man's brief moment of vulnerability before remembering that trying to lift his arms would be pointless.

Mathias sat still, catching his breath with his head tilted back and his eyes shut. Once he had recovered he looked straight down at Berwald's needy cock, scoffed at the sight, slid out of him, and began climbing off the bed. Once his hands were freed, Berwald's first instinct was to finish himself off. But because Mathias stood at the foot of the bed waiting for him to do just that, he clenched his fists and refused.

"Hmm. Very well then" Mathias muttered. He bent down to grab his pants then made his way to the bathroom. Berwald grimaced and rolled onto his side to slide out of the bed. Defeat, once more, came crashing down on him. It was inside him, around him, and in every breath he took. It was a heavy gas in his lungs and a painful weight on his shoulders. It took the rest of his remaining strength to ignore his slowly softening erection, wrap himself in the remains of his shirt, pick up the rest of his clothes, and walk through the door.

Tino's door was closed tonight, but as he walked by Berwald could hear frightened sobs from just inside the door frame. He felt an urge to comfort the boy - to protect him. But walking in with blood on his face would probably be counterproductive, so instead he strode silently down the hallway to his own bedroom, walked through the door, and closed it behind him as hesitantly and quietly as possible.


	4. Chapter 3

Tino was not crying. His vision may have been blurry, his breaths may have been fought for and caught in his chest, and his cheeks may have been wet, but we was not crying. How could he be? How could this stiff, silent Swedish man mean so much to him that the sight of a bruise on is face could bring him to tears? Tino knew exactly why, actually. Because no matter how much he denied it, fought against it, or reasoned otherwise with all the common sense in the world, Berwald was his rock. His unchanging, unbreakable foundation upon which Tino built his brave aspirations for a better tomorrow. And looking at his foundation cracked and torn was too much for him to bear at the moment.

Unable to sleep the previous night, Tino had watched the still horizon outside his bedroom window until it faded from black to grey, and eventually grew orange. He had not wanted to move - he had been too scared to make any noise and didn't know if his limbs would cooperate with him if he tried, or if they would instead opt to crumble underneath him and bring him to the ground. As he watched the morning sky grow lighter, he had noticed a figure walking away from his building on the Eastern horizon. Berwald.

Tino had seen this before. He had often spotted Berwald escaping to this particular patch of forest to seek refuge from a stressful atmosphere. (Either Tino had been the only one to notice, or no one else had felt like reporting Berwald and robbing him of his few moments of peace.) Tino had often wondered where exactly it was that Berwald headed off to, what thoughts flooded his mind, and if he perhaps could use a companion. Before today Tino had always been far too intimidated by the Swede's possible reaction to being followed, to search for the answers to these questions. But this morning - he wasn't sure if it was a result of the man's painful and alarming yelling the night before, or his lack of sleep, or perhaps both - he couldn't stand to sit around uselessly and watch the man who had promised to protect him limp away to solitude.

That, somehow, is how he wound up here. Standing directly in front of the Swede who was sitting on the forest floor and watching the tall, unkempt grass sway in the wind across the field that stretched out endlessly in front of him. Tino, breathless at the sight of Berwald's bruised and bloodshot eyes, began to close the space between them before he even noticed he was walking. With every step he became aware of even more of the other's current condition - the red bite marks on his neck, and how he shivered without a shirt underneath his robe. He couldn't believe it. Berwald was his strength, his inspiration - Tino reached the other and, not sure what to do, collapsed to his knees. His arms fell limp at his sides and he shut his eyes tight, allowing his sobs to break free, powerful and obnoxious.

Tino wasn't sure what was worse - seeing the destruction caused by the beating he had listened to the previous night, or the embarrassing idiot he was making of himself sobbing helplessly in front of the man who inspired him to be brave. The weight of both these things and what seemed like a million foreign emotions was crushing Tino's chest and he struggled to breathe, gasping through his tears. He felt the urge to run away and try to forget that he had ever snuck out after Berwald, but something other than his impossibly weak knees was keeping him in place. Tino had to blink away the watery haze in his eyes to ensure what he was feeling was real. As soon as he could register what was happening around him he realized Berwald had taken him into his arms, his hands firmly at Tino's shoulder blades, and Tino's cheek was now resting on the Swedish man's shoulder.

God how he couldn't stand himself at the moment. What had he even hoped to accomplish by coming out here? Certainly not this - making this man who had gone through so much comfort HIM. He tried to apologize through huffs.

"I... I'm sorry... y-you shouldn't be the one... I mean... I'm not the one h-he hurt..." Berwald only tightened his grasp on the boy and the few seconds before his reply felt like a painful eternity to Tino.

"No. S'not only me being hurt. When he hurts one of us he damages us all. S'okay to be upset." Tino's sobs were lightening but the hold that the other man had on him was not. A couple more calming minutes passed before Berwald Spoke again. "Tino, d'ya have family or friends nearby?" Tino was a bit taken back by this sudden personal inquiry, and had to silence the voices of optimism that sang out in his head of the possible implications of Berwald's question in order to answer appropriately.

"N-no," he responded, his voice still a bit unsteady, "I'm afraid I remember next to nothing of my blood family, and I wound up in this place before I could establish any steady friendships." Tino was tempted to demand that Berwald explain himself, but he figured the Swede was the type of man who would inform you of his motives if it was crucial to do so, and Tino trusted his judgement.

"Oh." was all Berwald replied with.

The sun was well above the horizon and ascending into the clouds by the time Tino was peaceful enough to pull away from Berwald and look into his eyes. Previously under the assumption that whatever went on under the man's hard stare was absolutely impossible to read, Tino had never given him much eye contact in general. But here, alone with him, Tino could see Berwald's usually lifeless gaze fade and give way to something much more personal. The boy felt embarrassment growing in his gut - feeling as if he was being invited to view something so intensely intimate of Berwald's that was not his to witness.

Breaking the silence with no sound at all, Berwald cautiously moved his hand up to the younger boy's face and ever so slightly traced his fingers along his gentle jawline. Berwald's fingertips were cold as ice and calloused as stone. Despite himself, Tino shivered underneath his touch and broke eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the morning frost melting in the grass beneath them, and causing Berwald to immediately withdraw his hand.

For some reason he couldn't explain, Tino felt a pang of guilt. In an attempt to shake the awkward silence that hung between the two, a memory presented itself from the back of Tino's mind.

"Oh! That's right! My old neighbor! If I remember anything about my home in Finland growing up, it's him." The two reestablished eye contact, this time with a lighter, more enthusiastic atmosphere around them, and Berwald thought to himself for the millionth time how wonderful of a gift it was for this boy to be able to do that to everyone around him, even in the most grim of situations.

"I remember him being a tad quirky, but absolutely dependable. I always felt like I could rely on him when I got in trouble. His name is Eduard, and last I heard he was living in Estonia. Would that be too far?" Tino felt his guts drowning in dangerous excitement and he had to remind himself to keep a cool composure - Berwald still hadn't technically revealed his intentions.

"Should work fine if ya know the way" the Swedish man nodded. "Can ya write 'em and see if he's still where ya think he is?"

"Sure thing!" Tino exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically, but he didn't care. He was almost positive now that he and Berwald were on the same page with this conversation and the idea of freedom, _with Berwald,_ was more than he could have ever dreamed of.

"Do it soon" Berwald instructed in a friendly tone that Tino was unfamiliar with, and to accompany his own larger-than-life smile, Tino could unmistakably see the corners of Berwald's lips turn upwards as well. At this incredible sight warmth spilled over into every cell of Tino's body and, without thinking, he threw his arms around Berwald's neck. He immediately thought his actions were a mistake when he felt the other man's body grow tense beneath him, but made no effort to pull away once he felt slender yet steady arms wrap around his waist. Their embrace didn't last long, however.

"Tino. I need ya to promise me somethin'" Berwald stated bluntly as he leaned back to catch the Finnish boy's eyes with his own once more. Tino felt anxiety shoot down his spine.

"Y-yes?"

"When the day comes to claim our freedom" Berwald continued, "it won't be pleasant. Might have to fight. Do horrible things. But you need not be 'fraid. 'Cause I'll be with you. During, after, as long as you'll let me be. M'kay?"

Tino was at an absolute loss for words. Suddenly, the bruises and cuts on Berwald's neck meant nothing. His rock, his foundation, was still as strong as ever, and he felt silly for doubting its endurance earlier. His smile grew from ear to ear and all he could do was nod. He may prefer to avoid confrontation, but if he needed to be brave he could sure as hell put up a fight, and he sure as hell could do it for the sake of a future with Berwald.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Short chapter this time guys, and I'm afraid the next (and last!) chapter won't come for another few weeks as I am about to be out of the country for some time. However I just wanted to thank all of you who are actually reading this and favoring/reviewing/following it, I'm so extremely happy you like this! Thank you thank you THANK YOU!

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The next three days following their agreement went by smoothly and far too slowly. Berwald hadn't received an update concerning Tino's attempts to get in touch with his old neighbor in Estonia, but he trusted that the boy was holding up his end of their plan to the best of his ability, and didn't see it necessary to risk revealing them by asking. He clung dearly to the ideology of their escape however, fantasizing about being able to remove his Finnish source of joy from this wretched environment.

Just this anticipation enabled Berwald to stand taller and stride deeper as he made his way back to their Danish tyrant's estate from his usual serene hideout. He had snuck out there the previous night to catch some fresh air after yet another argument with Mathias - something about accusations that Berwald was using ink and letter paper without Mathias' permission. Of course, Berwald had no clue what the crazy Dane was on about. He smirked to himself.

He had apparently spent quite some time in the forest calming himself, as the sun was now beginning to peak its way over the fields and glisten across the frost - he decided he should head back instead of cutting it as closely as he and Tino had three days earlier. Yes, staying out that late had been a risk, but in just a few agonizing weeks it would be nothing but worth it.

He was greeted in the doorway by Lukas, who was crossing his arms and sporting a scowl. "You've got to start watching the time whenever you walk off, if _he_ notices and asks where you are I'm not lying for you."

Berwald just stood silently and stared down at the Norwegian until Lukas felt awkwardly intimidated enough to continue with his next sentence. "Breakfast needs to be made before he gets up and I need your help today." Lukas started to turn and walk back inside but Berwald was immediately uneasy with this odd request.

"Doesn't Tino usually help ya?" Lukas didn't stop or turn around and replied in a monotonous tone.

"He is sick today. He will be staying in his room." Berwald gave a scowl to no one and walked stiffly behind the younger boy to the kitchen. Once he reached it he followed Lukas' directions in preparing breakfast for Mathias and then himself. But though he was preoccupied with these tasks he couldn't shake the gut-wrenching worry that overwhelmed him when he thought of Tino. He knew something was being hidden from him. And if Tino _was_ actually sick like Lukas had told him, there was no way he was receiving the care he probably needed. He twitched and swallowed nervously thinking of the boy in pain and left alone. Berwald would definitely have to visit him later.

"Don't worry Ber, it's just a cold" Lukas reassured after observing Berwald's discomfort. "He should be able to return to work after a day of rest. Now fetch the plates for me." Berwald had a multitude of emotions in response to this. Anger that he was most likely being lied to, helplessness as a result of the situation being downplayed, and irritation from Lukas bossing him around. He thought to himself that his current emotions were childish but he couldn't help them - nor did he have a particular desire to. He strode over to the China cabinet - Mathias always insisted on luxurious plates with every meal - and grabbed for the breakfast set, too absorbed in his own frustration to notice an angry Dane sneaking up behind him.

"SVE!" Mathias yelled from just a foot behind Berwald, and the sudden noise made the Swedish man jump and loose his grip on a plate, sending it to the floor to crash into countless pieces. Berwald braced himself for more yelling but it didn't come. Instead he felt Mathias' chest press against his back, and heard him give a soft chuckle while his index and middle fingers ran from Berwald's collar bones down to his stomach. Mathias' breath was heavy, making his voice barely audible as he spoke next, directly into Berwald's ear.

"Well what do 'ya know? How perfect is this timing? Perfect, perfect. I was coming to alert you of a punishment you'll have to go through at noon and this is just a cherry on top - your carelessness here calls for even more! Oh how much fun I get to have now! How perfect!"

"Master." Called a bowing Lukas from the doorway to their left. "Your food is ready and as soon as Berwald retrieves a plate for me it will be served."

Mathias gave Lukas a smile. "Of course. How efficient you are, Nor. I could use more like you around here. Yes, so nice!" He removed himself from Berwald and Lukas looked to the ground, his face troubled and red. Able to move again, Berwald grabbed for another plate and held it out to Lukas, disgusted, before bending to clean up the broken glass.


End file.
